Oleandar (Part 1 of 2)

Oleandar, in our garden, with blossums pink and white on dark green stems and leaves, all about the bright berm along the garden ledge; your extended trunks and branches peer above the neighbor's wall. Your blossoms perfume the air so as it hangs around so long the syrup-sweet smell pervades all the garden, keeping company with the birds and their soul-sweet songs. With your many branches spreading out and very tall; those vivid pinks and whites against deep forest green, a miracle of nature on such a summer day. You thirstily drink our water and then your flowers somehow refuse to stay. I must cut your branches back to get them to return. Something I didn't know but, finally, I learned. Are you afraid of some enemy we nurture in the garden?